Faded Memories
by Darkartist546
Summary: Follows the story of five of New York's best storm riders, and six friends who would go to any lengths for the people they consider family.


**Prologue**

New Names, New Faces

I sighed, it had been a while since I had just had the time to ride, y'know, feel the wind whipping at my face under the hood. Ever since we had finally made it, things had gotten so hectic, everyone wanted a shot at the number one team in New York. I looked up at that beautiful night's sky, and I could feel the small grin tug at my lips from beneath the top of that black punisher hoodie. I felt safe, home, real, things I only ever felt when on AT's, music blaring into my ears, under the nights sky, MY nights sky. Steely blues slipped closer as it bent my knees, hopping easily over a small pothole in the street, that grin slowly subtly birthing a smile, it really was mine, I knew this city better then anyone, even my teammates, and what a team of misfits they are.

Vince, great when it comes to the speed game, but a bit heavy on the whole Neko thing, always with his kitty ears, tassels and the like. Then came Anastasia, or just Ani, our straight technical rider, she loves to play the psycho card, always creeping out the competition, and sometimes, even us, well except Vinny, he seemed to love it to no end, but remember, cats….., that's all I got to say on that. Mikes up next, he likes to pretend he doesn't love the game, but we all know the truth, he's addicted to the thrill of the ride, same as us all. Cant forget Kuan, not that he'd let us if we wanted to, him and Mike would be our power department, and they do their jobs perfectly. Then there's me, Drake, I'm quiet, it lets me think, plan, truly enjoy life the way I choose, I blend speed and technical prowess, and I fly, me and Ani anyway, we thrive in the air, and as for the team in its entirety, well, we are what you lose, those small tidbits of your life that have faded to be, they all come to us, call us home. We are Faded Memories.

Pale hands found their way to my pockets, finding my sight once again, my left foot sweeping wide as I twisted the rest of my body and threw myself into reverse, my large hood blowing forward, meeting slight resistance from the skullcap that covered my hair, it kept my hair from my face as I rode, and well, kept people from recognizing me, I wasn't much for fame. My thoughts were interrupted by the beeping that had replaced Rob Zombie blaring into my brain. "Crap." I muttered, time to head back, it was getting late, and I still had school tomorrow.

It was a little after 2 in the morning when I finally walked through the front door of my small apartment in Forest Hills, Queens. I tried to keep from making too much noise when I shut the door, holding the knob twisted so I could slip it closed without a sound, a mission I succeeded in, just as I had so many times before. Not that it helped, as soon as I walked past the couch, that lump shifted, red wool blanket flipping down, leaving me staring at my slightly darker than mocha roommate.

"Welcome back." I could tell he was tired, waiting up to make sure I was ok was wearing on him, but I had told you so many times that he didn't have to, I was a big boy, I could look after myself, but nevertheless he kept at it, and I can't lie…. It was kinda nice.

I chuckled softly as I reached up and tugged down on the zipper of my hoodie, slowly uncovering the plain black T that sat beneath. I let out a soft sigh as I swept my hand back across my head, pushing back the hood and tugging off the skully, exposing my brown/black long, pony tailed hair, almost pitch black in the darkness.

"Thanks." Our eyes met for a second, more understanding between us, between our entire team than any other group of people ever had. I nodded my head what couldn't have been more than a fraction of an inch, and went to my room in silence. I stripped off my hoodie and threw it in the chest of drawers in the corner of my small room, hiding it, with my iPod, beneath a bunch of old faded jeans, sat down on the edge of my bed, and worked the laces of my AT's open and pulled them off. Carrying them over, I tucked them right by my hoodie, beneath the jeans, keeping my secret mine, ours.

I fell down on my bed, hands resting under my still tied back hair, gazing up at my off-white ceiling, thinking about things, the team, the Regalia, and my life, until I passed out into a world owned and operated by my very own mind, a scary thought to some, but a perfect place to lay my head, far as I was concerned.


End file.
